


Overwatch collection.

by rottengirl420



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Assassins & Hitmen, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, For Science!, Gen, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Overwatch Family, Robot Sex, Science Experiments, Shameless Smut, Smut, Team Talon (Overwatch), War, will add tags as reqs come in!, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottengirl420/pseuds/rottengirl420
Summary: A collection of overwatch fan-fictions and drabbles.Requests are open.Open to all sexualities, genders, pronouns, races and bodytypes <3
Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Reader, Hana "D.Va" Song/Reader, Hanzo Shimada/Reader, Jesse McCree/Reader, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes/Reader, Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Reader, Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Reader, Maximilien (Overwatch)/Reader, Moira O'Deorain/Reader, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Reader, Reinhardt Wilhelm/Reader, Roadhog | Mako Rutledge/Reader, Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reader, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reader, Sombra | Olivia Colomar/Reader, Tekhartha Zenyatta/Reader, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix/Reader
Comments: 26
Kudos: 62





	1. Requests.

Hey all! After a few months of hiatus im finally back! Did you miss me?

Covid-19 has given me plenty of time to catch up with old fanfictions and even start some new ones, so here i am with a long awaited overwatch collection!

_**rules** _

**i _will_ write:**

**-smut**

**-moderate violence**

**-dubcon with a happy ending**

**-drug use/alcohol use**

**-wlw, blb and any other sexual preferences**

**-pronouns (please include them in the request <3)**

**\- i will write most things! If you're unsure, shoot me a message!**

**I _will not_ write:**

**-gore/vore**

**-anything underage**

**-vivid descriptions of abuse**

**PLEASE GIVE ME A GENERAL SUMMARY OF WHAT YOU WANT YOUR REQUEST TO BE! Every writer really struggles to produce writing if your request is just "x kisses z smut pls" so PLEase be specific with what you want! <3**

I'm eager to get stuck into some writing so dont be shy! Message me or comment on this chapter and ill get back to you asap <3


	2. Maximilien.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max x gender neutral (afab) reader.
> 
> This is my first ever afab fic, please let me know if ive done something wrong <3 i hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being Maximiliens body guard can get a little frustrating.
> 
> Warnings:  
> -mention of murder  
> -alcohol  
> -exhibitionism  
> -robofucking, obviously (omnic rights!!)
> 
> -UNBETA'D VERSION. LMK IF YOU FIND MISTAKES!-

You’d always wanted to visit Venice. Had someone told you that you’d go there to protect one of the richest omnics on the planet as he negotiated with the biggest terrorist group known to man, you’d have told them to jog on. Yet here you were, standing beside your boss, Maximilien, the world renowned billionaire omnic and his Talon associates. They spoke in whispers as they sipped at their drinks, faces tense and eyes averted. At the head of the oval table sat Doomfist; the hard-faced, dark humoured leader of Talon. Next to him were his two head scientists Dr. Moira O’odeorain and Seibren ‘Sigma’ de Kuiper. The table was full with important Talon members, like Reaper and Sombra and a few faces you weren't too familiar with; you didn't care. Your job was to protect Max, not to protect Talon. You didn’t really care for their philosophy, but if protecting Max was raking in thousands of dollars a month then you’d happily grin and bear it as they discussed assassinations. 

You shuffled in your place, sleek black gun reclining in your hands. You stood far enough away from the table to give them their privacy, but after Reaper made a particularly unsavoury joke about murder you felt yourself getting uncomfortable. You weren’t scared, you’d murdered before. You just hated the Talon lifestyle. You were used to the Casino Monaco; great arched windows, flashy gold leaf furniture, glasses of absinthe, gorgeous designer clothes and piles of money. You had expressed your dislike for Talon to Max before, only for him to laugh and say “Un Sou est un sou.” 

He was right. Just because you didn’t like Talon didn’t mean you couldn't use them to become a world renowned personal bodyguard and assassin. Without Talon, you’d probably still be working in the backroom of a bar. You had been spotted by Max after pulling him out of a bar fight and, to cut a long story short, save his life. He had Talon recruit you, train you up and hired you the second you were ready. Even though your head now had a price, you couldn’t be happier with your career choice. 

Max laughed at something before swiveling in his seat slightly to see your eyes looking off into the distance, mouth curled into a frown. It was time to go. Max finished his drink before rubbing his chrome hands together and pushing his seat back.

“I think it’s about time we retire for the evening. It’s getting quite late, isn’t it?” His voice was smooth and charming. He had to be; if he even showed a slither of disrespect or disinterest Doomfist would certainly pop a circuit or two. Moira grunted in agreement, picking her cloak-like coat off her chair and throwing it on. Doomfist swilled the remainder of his alcohol before sliding the glass away, leaving it for the cleaners. He stood up and said his final words before heading for the door which you opened for him. 

“Good evening, sir.” You bowed your head at him as he made his way to his hotel room. He did not respond. He was too good for that. What an asshole. Moira joined her colleagues and they headed out the door, nodding their heads at you as they chatted to themselves. The room was finally empty.

Besides from Max.

He stood with his hands clasped together, head tilted toward you knowingly. You returned the look. He sighed; a thing robots don’t need to do, but when the only thing that moves on your face is your mouth you must rely on human body language to portray an emotion. Was he fed up? Annoyed? Tired? You didn't pursue an explanation. You cocked your head in the direction of the door. 

“The car’s outside, sir.” You were growing tired, but Max was in a particularly perky and annoying mood, apparently. 

“Okay,” he finally unclasped his hands before fixing his broach and taking a slow walk to the lift. You trailed behind him, eyes ahead. Usually, you and Max shared a few words, but you weren’t really feeling up to it right now. He hummed the tune of a song from the room to the car. 

“Where will we be heading today, sir?” Your omnic driver asked over his shoulder, sliding the privacy glass open. 

“The usual please, my friend.” Max nodded his head. Max knew all of his drivers on a personal level; connections are information, and information is everything- and cab drivers were especially gossip-prone, even if they were supposed to be Talon-funded cab drivers. 

The car started with a gentle hum, and suddenly you were off. A soft melody began to play through the car's speaker system. You paid no mind to it, instead keeping your eyes trained on the skyline of Venice. Max made a delighted noise, his inner motors whirring as he deflated a little into his cushioned seat. His fingers moved to the melody, head swaying with the movement. Had he had a little too much to drink, or was he just in a really good mood? You ripped your eyes away from the scenery to indulge in Max for just a moment, to find his piercing red eyes on you. He was such an attention seeker.

“Ah, Gnossienne No. 3… It’s beautiful, is it not?” His movements slowed as he waited for a response.

“It's not to my taste, sir.” You hated being around drunk people when you weren’t drunk, it was like babysitting. He huffed in response, eyes still on you.

“What is to your taste then?” He lounged lazily, legs spread with his arm propped on the window of the car. The soft, warm light from the car made him look so handsome, so wildly inappropriate. The childish part of your brain wanted to say “you,” just to see what he would do. Would he fire you and have you terminated? Would he avoid you like a lover in a bad romcom? Or would he leap up and ravish you in front of this poor cab driver?

You shook your head at the thought, laughing through your nose. 

“One Direction is to my taste.” You smiled to the floor. Max did not laugh.

“Really?” 

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

God, you should have just said 'you.’ The song had ended a long time ago and another song had begun. You forced yourself to become interested in the passing scenery to ignore the awkward atmosphere. 

“Do you find your job enjoyable, (y/n)?” he played with his broach, his red eyes focussed on you again. 

“Of course, sir.”

He groaned and sat up, resting his arms on his knees as he leaned in to face you.

“Sir this, sir that… you usually call me by my name. I'm starting to think you are having negative feelings about your career.” 

“What gives you that impression?”

“I scanned you earlier.”

Oh yeah. You forgot omnics have weird abilities like vital-scanning modules.

“And what did the scan say, _sir_?” 

“Increased body temperature, agitated limbs and a nasty scowl on your face in front of all of my colleagues. Tell-tale signs of an agent lead astray, or someone who is scared. Which one of those categories do you fall under, dear?” 

“Neither. I can assure you I will not be led astray any time soon, and I fear nothing.”

“Not even me?”

“Not even you.”

His motors hummed. You should be scared of him; he was your handler and you were an asset. He always showed respect to his assets, especially you. You were so good that Doomfist had tried to have you undergo the same treatment as widowmaker, Talons infamous sniper. But, Max declined the offer. He found bonds between his workers and himself enjoyable, and he liked to see you show emotion. Taking that part away from you would be a crime!

Before continuing, he considered the outcomes of this conversation lazily. Admittedly, he had a little too much to drink so his judgement may have been clouded over, but he decided to pursue an outcome where you would lash out at him just to see how you would react. He’d worry about the consequences in the morning.

“Then what is it?” He leaned closer, eyes narrowed. 

“Your colleagues talk like badly written supervillains. They disgust me.” You spat back. 

Your omnic driver slowly slid the privacy glass shut. You silently thanked him. 

“Pick your next words wisely, dear. I have known you a year and a half, but I have known Talon for a lifetime. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Abso-lutely.” 

“Good.” His joints popped and his motors fizzled, steam escaping his shoulder plates. 

“Are you feeling… under appreciated?” He said slowly. You held eye contact.

“Overworked? Frustrated?” 

Max may not be able to smile, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. You swallowed and averted your eyes. If you were going to shoot your shot now would be the chance; he had you all riled up, tapping your foot with anger. Max knew exactly what he was doing. He had you all got and bothered, now you had two options: punch him or kiss him.

“What are you trying to get me to say, Max?” You were going to pursue this conversation, professionalism be damned.

“I'm not trying to get you to say anything, I'm just trying to…” a cold silver finger trailed from your exposed ankle and up the hem of your suit trousers before stopping at the knee. “...give a helping hand.”

-

Now here you were, naked in front of your boss. He had practically dragged you to his penthouse suite and tore off your very expensive, most favourite work suit. His chest plates were hot to the touch, his core already overheating from excitement. He lounged in his master chair as you stood before him, the cold air biting at your skin. 

The omnic stretched out one of his arms and beckoned you to him with his fingers

“Come, mon biquet. Take your frustrations out on me.”

Tiptoeing to him, you made him wait. You bit your lip and sat on his lap, legs spread around him. His warm touch blistered your skin. His hands roamed your body, his talented fingers massaging your muscles as he analysed your features. He hadn't even begun yet, and he had you rolling your head back in bliss.

“What a sight to see…” his forehead lights flickered with delight. He reminded himself to archive this moment to his personal file. You found his hands around your hips and suddenly he had you in the air. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, a worried noise escaping you.

“Please, dear, let me take care of you.” He stood you back up, his chest pressed into your back, hand trailing down your hip and slipping between your thighs. You closed your eyes. For once, you would let someone take care of you. You smiled and slipped into a docile state. God, it felt good to let go as you relaxed into him, his fingers finding your wet heat- but then, just as you began to slip into tranquility you felt your skin set alight. Your chest was burning cold while Max melted the skin on your back. Yelping, you pushed back against whatever was so cold, to find yourself pressed against the window of his penthouse. 

“Max-”

“Shhh, let them see how good i make you feel.” He laughed into the skin on your neck, daring to dip a finger inside of you and test the waters. You’d never done something like this before! Cheeks flaring red, you mewled against the back of your hand. You shyly reached your free hand over your shoulder and behind Maxs’ head, fingers dancing across his exposed mechanical parts. You knew he wouldn’t have advanced touch sensors on his back, but you did know a nifty little secret you’d learnt from your omnic ex; all omnics have pressure points. You searched the nape of his neck blindly, feeling your fingers graze a small, raised circular platform. Bingo. You pushed down on the button and Max roared, steam immediately gushing out of his shoulder blades and neck vents, rutting his hips into the small of your back. He pressed his fingers into you harder when they began to vibrate. You howled in response, letting all of your weight fall onto the window. Maxs' other freehand scraped up your sides, leaving white lines up and down your skin.

“I told you,” his hand snaked around your throat and held you there gently. He could feel your pulse on his fingers and it made his motors jackhammer. “To let me take care of you.” Truth be told, he was running low on steam. The lights in his eyes cut out briefly before he decided to initiate his emergency power module. Nothing could stop him from wanting to see that blissed out expression on your face when you finally reach your climax. He wanted to feel your muscles ripple around him, to see you shake and shudder from pleasure. He wanted to show the world. 

Lucky for max, you very quickly began to feel your chest tighten, your breath caught in your throat, glass fogged.

“M-max I’m close… dont you dare stop what you're doing.” You panted, eyes half lidded.

“Yeah? Are you going to cum for me, mon amoureux?” 

“Yes! Fuck, dont stop-”

“That’s ri-i-ght. Cum for an omnic, darling-ling.” He short-circuited briefly, his arm seizing up. He really needed to power down, but he was going to see this until the very end, even if it meant he ran out of power this very second. 

“Fuck, Max, I'm cumming!” You slammed your fist on the glass, collapsing onto the surface. Seeing stars, your mouth shaped itself into an oval, a silent scream of pleasure leaving you. Max had completely frozen, eyes locked onto your features as you succumbed to him. This was magical. He has had sex with countless humans, but you were a special specimen. He cursed himself for not doing this sooner; seeing you crumble to your knees because of him lit a fire in his chest. He collapsed into the chair behind him, cooling off. You did the same on the floor, face pressed on the window. 

After a moment, you looked over to Max, his eyes dim, barely functioning. You laughed and picked yourself up slowly. “I hope we gave the people a good show,” you mumbled, passing max and kissing him on the forehead. He managed a laugh, his eyes following you, watching you reach for his power bank and passing it to him. He hummed, opening his chest cavity and plugging it in, immediately feeling much better. Giving himself a moment to charge, he stood up and began to head to bed when he caught a vision of you getting dressed up sloppily in his bathroom mirror. He fell into bed, joints clicking. 

“(Y/n)... would I be so lucky to have you stay the night?”

You knew you shouldn't.

This was already a mess that you knew you’d come to regret tomorrow morning. But a new found warmth for max grew in your chest, and you felt yourself smiling at the offer. You’d gone soft for your boss.

You leaned against the doorway before sighing, ripping your half done up shirt off once again and rolling onto bed with Max. He shuffled up, making room for you as you got comfortable against his polished body.

“Looks like Lady Luck is on your side tonight, sir.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
